To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
I went to the flea market today (not as fun by yourself). There was a table that said "Free Junk." On it, was a children's bible and some videos about Jesus. That's fine if they wanted to get rid of it, but do they really have to call it "Junk"??? It's not junk. They could've just said "Stuff"
Made possible by Gretchen at 3:44 PM
0 comments:
Post a Comment